tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54304951868408661372011-10-03T06:19:29.711-07:00Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.comBlogger531100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-36616795024488159462009-07-06T14:58:00.000-07:002009-07-13T11:27:51.957-07:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));The two trainers hustled her through the now-almost-empty waiting area, and into a clean up/staging area.It was familiar, certainly she’d been moved like this from one area to

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-44516104493569676492009-07-06T14:54:00.001-07:002009-07-07T03:24:31.373-07:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));“I have $100,000 from the gentleman in the front.”The auctioneer pushed Nikki ‘s right shoulder, turning her to face the crowd. The light was bright but her eyes had adjusted a bit;

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-76832347332209887072009-06-20T18:05:00.000-07:002009-06-23T04:22:10.444-07:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));So now it was her turn. Finally. This was it.Two handlers were there. One on each side of her. The one on her left looked vaguely familiar; was he the trainer who had done the

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-19037025803177498422009-06-10T17:48:00.000-07:002009-06-11T03:40:52.205-07:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));Finally, she was at the front of the line. Now she could see. She could see into the big room where they were holding the auction, could see up to the platform, could see the

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-61636443984159286722009-02-27T16:33:00.000-08:002009-02-27T19:02:24.846-08:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));The slaves were lined up. Nikki was almost at the end of the line. She tried to make sense of the order. It seemed like the youngest, greenest, least accomplished, slaves were at

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-24469737959305632562009-02-16T19:19:00.000-08:002009-02-17T17:01:29.304-08:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));It took a while for all the slaves to be brought in and mounted inposition. Nikki waited. Her arms up over her head. Her bodystretched out. Her cunt oozing, showing her

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-31628418828999983562009-01-10T14:44:00.001-08:002009-01-10T18:09:53.359-08:00

It was morning again. But this morning felt different somehow. There was a tension in the air. A feeling of hushed anticipation.The slaves were lined up. All of them. And all the trainers were there. And some of the more senior house slaves. The girl who had done Nikki’s make-up before her date with Charles, the slaves who worked in the athletic facilities, the groomers, the wardrobe girls

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-14456845831082533202008-12-18T18:19:00.001-08:002008-12-19T19:48:36.891-08:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));Nikki was hot. She felt the little beads of sweat forming at hertemples, a drop was starting to run down her nose. Now it washanging, pregnant, from the tip of her nose, itching

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-22772492727995339422008-10-03T18:24:00.000-07:002008-10-03T21:17:18.672-07:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));Nikki woke to the sound of the door to her "drawer" (her little podbed) being opened. She felt like she'd been asleep for about aminute, but she knew it was probably closer to two

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-90196379626195242852008-09-07T09:14:00.000-07:002008-09-07T09:15:42.228-07:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));The majority of the readers of this blog don't click off the first page -- to inspire you to do so; i'm not including any of the juicy content on the first page. The latest post is

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-17106658200751689562008-08-18T17:35:00.001-07:002008-08-28T19:03:24.664-07:00

All of the workers had given out the last of their tokens. It was over.The trainer who had started off the “game” stood at the front of the room. “Congratulations.” She said it without warmth or excitement, just matter of fact. “You have completed this assignment. And I think the workers are happy.” She looked over to the group of men now filing out of the cafeteria.The men made a small murmur of

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-17891519711075094622008-08-16T11:24:00.000-07:002008-08-17T21:16:03.097-07:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));The slaves were brought down into a basement room. The staff cafeteria for the facility. A big room with a low ceiling and rows of dining tables. This was where all of the

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-16588867381981652812008-08-16T11:20:00.000-07:002008-08-17T21:00:59.843-07:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));Nikki wasn’t sure what “Let’s get on with it” meant, but she hoped it would involve some food. She hadn’t eaten anything for close to 24 hours. She felt like she’d almost passed

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-80732127326288979302008-07-19T15:04:00.000-07:002008-07-19T15:24:21.558-07:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));Nikki just wanted to be clean. She could still smell the piss in herhair, she knew there was shit drying down her leg, the pungent odor ofher own sweat came from her armpits. It

Durn Trillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15326735095232160292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-41739789332953419372008-05-28T16:49:00.001-07:002008-06-02T16:08:03.268-07:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));Nikki felt her arms stretched up above her head, her body taught. A trainer she didn’t know had strung her up, wrists cuffed, the chain between them held up by a cable that ran

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-91561036110065319862008-05-13T04:49:00.000-07:002008-05-13T04:51:56.864-07:00

Nikki was alone, enclosed. She could feel the thin hard mat below her, the hard metal surface under it. In the pitch-black darkness, she could also feel the wall at her left. And if she moved her right leg out, she could feel the wall at that side. Above her, she knew, the ceiling was only about two feet above her, even if she couldn’t see it in the dark. She couldn’t sit up without hitting

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-63201810632718938812008-04-21T11:36:00.000-07:002008-04-21T14:50:02.237-07:00

Mark chained them to each other. He had Nikki fetch both collars, both leashes. Had Nikki put Cindy’s collar on first, then her own, then had Nikki snap the leashes on both.The next part was truly ingenious. He had Cindy open her mouth and ran Nikki’s leash through the back of it, all the way deep, had her close her jaw on it, holding it in place. Then had Nikki open her mouth and pass Cindy’

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-74043100315482394002008-03-17T10:42:00.000-07:002008-03-17T12:47:03.304-07:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-3656542-1");pageTracker._initData();pageTracker._trackPageview();Nikki was still glowing from her victory when Mark brought her back into his

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-45631336518938241452008-03-05T19:18:00.000-08:002008-03-06T19:01:32.671-08:00

There is a new post on Svie's fantasies. It's the end of the wrestling match and it's exciting and action packed. Go check it out!I've had a very productive couple of months. I've been writing and writing and writing. But all things must change, and I am taking on a new professional role, so I expect to be posting less. Many of you are just joining Nikki's adventures now, or are catching up, so

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-35577775689887552392008-02-29T18:13:00.000-08:002008-03-05T19:58:43.273-08:00

The 3 minutes between periods seemed to fly by. Mark had given her water, stroked her head again, given her soft words of encouragement. He was proud of her. Was so glad she had made it through the whole period. He had caressed her, kissed her, and encouraged her to get back into the ring.So here Nikki was. Standing, slicked with oil, on the slippery surface of the mat, waiting for the bell

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-20584571587465478402008-02-28T18:53:00.001-08:002008-02-29T20:53:46.033-08:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));Mark came into the ring to collect Nikki and take her back to hercorner. He tenderly picked her up from the slippery floor andpractically carried her over to the stool he had set up

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-72732874410579268862008-02-26T11:31:00.000-08:002008-02-27T09:48:54.239-08:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));Mark had led her by the hand (greasy hand) to the theater. She felt so strange walking through the backstage area naked and glistening with oil. Her skin felt warm, both from the

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-55108154824604526792008-02-24T10:31:00.001-08:002008-02-24T10:40:47.360-08:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));Mark had taken good care of her. Well, that was his job after all… He had brought her back to his room in the wheelchair, had given her a gentle sponge bath, washed her hair, made

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-48696371256479805462008-02-20T13:43:00.000-08:002008-02-21T19:46:14.398-08:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));Nikki vaguely remembered people hovering over her. Being lifted up. Moved. Something draped over her. Being held down. A pricking feeling in her arm.“It’s okay, hun. It’s okay.

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-65688749951955887892008-02-18T08:15:00.001-08:002008-02-21T19:33:38.433-08:00

var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www.");document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E"));Nikki woke, hearing footsteps approaching down the hallway. Her whole body ached. She felt as if she had been run over by a truck. Every part of her hurt, inside and out. She

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-90139519461843036592008-02-15T17:32:00.001-08:002008-02-15T22:57:04.436-08:00

Nikki felt like it had been going on for hours. She didn’t know how long it had really been but she knew that her shoulders ached, her knees were raw, her neck felt like it was in a steel clamp, her asshole felt distended, and her jaw was numb. She wasn’t even sure whose cock was in her mouth. They had been passing her back and forth, letting her get them nice and aroused, and then pulling her

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-50406322730619922712008-02-12T16:57:00.000-08:002008-02-15T12:25:23.096-08:00

Mark had prepared her, at least physically. He had fed her. Washed her. Inspected her to be sure that she was still appropriately hairless and groomed. He had brought Tammy back in to do her make-up and hair—this time she had done them in a very simple and straightforward way. Light mascara and a dark rim of liner around her eyes, some concealer for the dark circles under her eyes, small

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-13329863375583662062008-02-08T16:39:00.000-08:002008-02-08T20:10:36.868-08:00

Nikki had been walking for over an hour. It was a beautiful day. Clear and sunny, with a bright blue sky and white fluffy clouds. She wasn’t enjoying it, however. She was hot and sweaty. She was wearing her tall heavy boots, a short wide skirt, and the corset that supported her breasts without covering them. She felt them move with each step, and felt the air on her nipples and the sweat

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-58610575659443603062008-02-06T17:20:00.001-08:002008-02-08T06:52:54.493-08:00

“Sir?” Nikki didn’t want to disturb Mark in his post coital bliss, but she was really curious. “Sir, would you tell me more about Sylvie and her slaves?” She really wanted to know. “Please?”“You are a curious little slave, aren’t you?” At least Mark didn’t seem annoyed. More amused. He smiled down on her, his hand still in her hair, her face on his chest. “What do you want to know?”“Oh,

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-48723041409513177802008-02-05T18:10:00.000-08:002008-02-05T18:25:06.884-08:00

Nikki woke early. She knew it was early because the sun was barely peeking in through the curtains. It was that strange grey half light of dawn. She was in Mark’s bedroom. Ohh… the night before came flooding to her mind. The ropes. She reached down to feel her rib cage. It was smooth-- she was surprised, she almost expected to feel the indentations where the ropes had been tight across her

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-8087714773317607762008-02-03T14:37:00.000-08:002008-02-03T18:11:55.356-08:00

The party was in full swing. Guests mingling, talking and chatting. Glasses full of beautiful drinks, pink, blue, green. There must have been 50 people in the room already. The women were fashionably dressed in bright colors and high heels. The men looked sophisticated in dark suits or impeccably tailored jackets. It was clearly a circle that met frequently, they were greeting each other

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-23203894848201779812008-01-29T19:02:00.001-08:002008-01-29T21:18:56.124-08:00

Susan took over for Mark when the slaves got back from their walk. She made sure they were cleaned up and fed and that they had a chance to rest. But she also ensured that they didn’t have the slightest opportunity to satisfy themselves, not even by rubbing against the bed or the edge of a counter or squeezing their legs together. She kept them in that state, right below the point were they

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-81235808840892195282008-01-27T18:45:00.000-08:002008-01-27T22:34:11.626-08:00

Mark went to the closet and brought out Nikki’s walking things. First there were the boots. Thick soled and flat healed they were perfect for outdoor walks. They looked like a normal pair of leather hiking boots, except that they extended up over her knees and half way up her thighs. They laced all the way up the front with an incredibly long set of laces. They had been custom made for Nikki

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-90334847897264065292008-01-27T00:02:00.000-08:002008-01-27T11:56:35.690-08:00

Nikki woke face down, her arms over her head, her legs spread. She tried to move. Realized that her wrists and ankles were bound. And that her ass was incredibly painful. It all came rushing back, the 13 strokes with Charles’ belt. Each one marking her, cutting her. Digging into her. Creating welts. She could feel the marks now. Almost as vivid as when he had first hit her.Nikki moaned.

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-70008347171244658222008-01-25T15:38:00.000-08:002008-01-25T18:49:21.921-08:00

Mark had been brought up to speed on what had happened and had agreed that ten lashes was an appropriate penance. He had held Nikki’s face in his hands, searching deep into her soul with his eyes. He had asked her to tell him, directly and simply, that she wanted this beating. That she was ready for it. And he had confirmed with Charles that he was ready to deal with the consequences – as

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-20785481470301949142008-01-21T18:33:00.000-08:002008-01-22T09:48:02.401-08:00

Charles’ words were like a bucket of cold water. More like a tub of cold water. Nikki went from feeling blissfully connected to her body, deeply absorbed in her sexuality, warm and lost to the feelings, to being solidly and completely in the moment, cold and sober, in milliseconds. It was painful, and scary. Charles’ anger was intense.Nikki felt Mike’s cock soften and slip out of her. The

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-39310906378580366632008-01-21T06:05:00.000-08:002008-01-21T06:07:17.825-08:00

She had to admit, she probably could have figured out how to dry herself off without his help. But the idea of having him towel her down, being that close to his muscular frame, was appealing. Particularly given the state in which Charles had left her. She felt like all her nerves were jangling. She just wanted a little something to calm herself. Just a little closeness with this beautiful

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-5989081482529165502008-01-20T14:47:00.001-08:002008-01-21T06:04:58.803-08:00

Nikki woke just once in the night. It must have been 3 am, the room was pitch black. She had the strange sensation of not knowing where she was. She felt the wonderful luxuriousness of the bed, felt arms around her, felt her nakedness, felt the slippery softness of silk pajamas next to her, but it took her a moment to put it all back together. She was with Charles Tilton at the Four Seasons.

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-80255786066134798172008-01-17T14:58:00.001-08:002008-01-17T18:13:00.785-08:00

Nikki reached into Charles’ lap. She was kneeling in front of him, his legs spread, her knees between his feet. She reached to his belt, undid it, and then pulled open the zipper of his fly. His cock was hard. Already straining against the fabric. When she released it, it popped forward like a flagpole.Charles’ cock was beautiful. Long and straight and thick, big without being too big.

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-23992164346502322192008-01-15T10:52:00.001-08:002008-01-15T10:52:20.381-08:00

Nikki crawled over to the desk, and struggled to bring Charles back his briefcase on her knees, just one hand on the floor. Her breasts hanging down in her dress, her knees getting caught in the skirt. Her stockings smooth against the carpet. They were going to run, rubbing against the wool fibers of the carpet, Nikki struggled not to worry about that. Charles must know what he was doing.

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-75815420028622269442008-01-12T11:03:00.000-08:002008-01-12T17:07:21.621-08:00

Charles had explained to Nikki what was going to happen. But there was a big difference between hearing it and doing it.Charles stood. Pulled the table out to make it easier for Nikki to slide from the banquette. He stood in front of her, his back to the restaurant, his beautiful enameled fountain pen in his hand. And he deliberately dropped it on the floor.Nikki looked down. She knew what

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-32736152250032120562008-01-07T18:56:00.001-08:002008-01-11T10:57:21.935-08:00

As desert arrived, Charles turned the conversation to Nikki. “So, my dear, we’ve talked all about me. But I want to learn more about you. You are obviously well educated, and you clearly worked in business, but I want to know more about what led you to become a sex slave.”“Tell me when you first started having fantasies about submission.” Charles’ question was simple and straightforward. But

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-29863917163730674912008-01-04T19:05:00.000-08:002008-01-05T11:10:38.991-08:00

Nikki walked into the restaurant, Mark’s arm draped around her shoulder, the leash in his hand. She was radiant and she knew it. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkled, her nipples were standing out. Small tendrils of hair had escaped from her up-do and were soft around her face. Her lips were moist and parted. She was not a classically beautiful woman. Was not the girl who got picked

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-91877064574049907702008-01-01T13:20:00.001-08:002008-01-02T05:28:23.720-08:00

Mark led Nikki down to the car by her leash. He let her walk, or rather totter, on her super high heels, She felt like a ballerina on pointe, or some kind of doll. She could barely walk, her feet curving high over the shank of the shoe. At least they supported her whole foot and were not painful, even if they held her upright in a way she was not at all used to. His hand was warm on the small

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-21217413991423719482007-12-27T03:59:00.001-08:002007-12-27T03:59:59.391-08:00

Mark dressed Nikki as if she were a doll or an infant. He stood her in the middle of the room, her feet hip width apart, her arms hanging at her sides. He stroked her face, gently. “Stay still, girl. Let me see you and prepare you.”She looked up at him, her eyes communicating her acceptance of his instructions. She was his slave. He had trained her, helped her, taught her, and was now

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-33197558077570020702007-12-23T14:11:00.000-08:002007-12-23T14:12:10.087-08:00

Mark took Nikki to the oak paneled library. He had picked her up from Tran’s salon, her skin smooth and glistening, her body clean inside and out, her hair elegant in a classic chignon pulled back off her forehead and up off her neck. He had helped select the final dress she was to wear from three choices Tran offered up to him, had picked out her shoes, a special collar, and some make up. All

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-31986421121206382152007-12-22T09:28:00.000-08:002007-12-22T09:40:13.797-08:00

Nikki woke to the feeling of Tran and her assistant peeling the blankets off. For a moment she wasn’t sure where she was. She had been in a deep sleep, warmed by the heavy blankets, her body cradled by the contoured table on which she was lying. She struggled to put together the pieces. Oh yes -- oh – the tightness around her neck was her slave collar. The tingly/sore feeling in her ass was

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-51871067742917268042007-12-06T18:13:00.000-08:002007-12-10T19:09:58.519-08:00

Mark delivered Nikki to the spa to be groomed, prepared for her date. It was a full service salon, and they would take care of everything from her toenails to her hair. Nikki was used to this kind of preparation from her former life – she used to attend company functions, charity balls, or social functions at some of the nicest hotels and restaurants in the world. And she always liked to have

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-10606690023568952012007-11-24T16:45:00.001-08:002007-11-24T16:45:51.709-08:00

Nikki didn’t know where they were going. She didn’t know anything other than that she was going to have the date with Charles Tilton that evening, but the day stretched out before her completely unknown. In her old life, Nikki was used to knowing the plan, having her day mapped out, being in charge, shaping that plan, making all the decisions – but now she was just there. Giving herself over.

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-29200492325761432592007-11-24T16:44:00.000-08:002007-11-24T16:45:14.680-08:00

“Okay now, stop dawdling. There is a lot to do today. Get your butt out of bed.” Mark’s tone was playful, but the slap he placed on her butt meant business. She scrambled to get up and present herself.She kneeled as he had taught her, legs wide, hands open and facing up on her thighs, mouth open, head down. Waiting for him to get out of bed.Mark pulled her leash and she followed him on hands

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-25587033324092003682007-11-24T16:42:00.000-08:002007-11-24T16:44:18.049-08:00

Nikki woke to the sound of her leash being unclipped from the leg of the bed. She knew what was coming before she felt the tug, and she readied herself for Mark to pull her by the collar into his bed. “Come slave… climb in here, let me warm you.” His voice was soothing; tender, but firm. It was clear that she had no choice. But honestly, she was happy to comply. This moment of tenderness

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-3087943474338075462007-11-24T16:41:00.000-08:002007-11-24T16:42:37.887-08:00

Finally, there was a knock on the door.“Get into Nadu, head down, mouth open, legs open, hands resting palms up on your thighs. Do it now” Mark was practically hissing.Nikki obeyed. Confident that this was something she knew how to do.Mark opened the door and two men came in. Nikki surreptitiously glanced up. Both men were in their twenties. The one who was clearly in charge (Harry?) was

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430495186840866137.post-76376132888591351452007-11-24T16:02:00.000-08:002008-02-21T19:00:15.975-08:00

Nikki had been in training for about six weeks when Mark, her trainer, told her she was ready.It was after dinner. She had brought him his dinner on her knees, breasts wobbling as she carried the plates in. She had kneeled on the floor by his side while he ate, he idly stroking her hair from time to time. Once feeding her a little scrap of bread from his hand. She watched him carefully.

Nikkihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14750028372507083655noreply@blogger.com3